Master of the Possimpable
by BH2
Summary: How he became Barney Stinson, and she unraveled the illusion.
1. Chapter 1

Inspiration from: Game Night- Season 1, Ep.15; Wait For It- Season 3, Ep.1 ; Subway Wars- Season 6, Ep.4 ; Unpause -Season 9, Ep. 1

Barney Stinson, Greg, Robin Scherbatsky, Ted Moseby, Marshall Eriksen, Lily Aldren, and AltruCell WOW belong to the HIMYM writing team.

Christopher Howard ,Claire, and Stanley belong to me.

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Fall 2000

"Stinson. My office. Now." Mr. Howard's voice was sharp and staccato over the intercom.

Barney inhaled. _Stay zen, man,_ he told himself, though he felt his heart racing.

 _Working in an office isn't for me._ This thought crossed his mind for the umpteenth time that day, and it wasn't even lunchtime yet.

It felt like a century as Barney made his way across the hall, from his cramped office in the east wing to his boss's more spacious room six doors down.

"Go for Christopher. Yes. Yes. He is totally incompetent. I told you last week we should fire him. Yes. Ask Claire to shred his file immediately…I don't care how…right now…did I make myself clear?"

Barney gulped, and nervously adjusted his tie. It started feeling scratchy, and Barney suspected that if he were to remove it, his shirt collar would be soaked like a used washcloth.

Mr. Howard replaced the receiver. "Stinson," he barked.

"Yes, Mr. Howard?" Barney choked.

"Can you tell me what you did with the Exeter Vs. Long Island files?"

"Which?"

"The correct answer is 'shred them', Stinson. What is our one rule around here?"

"Dress to impress?" Barney asked, meekly.

"Other one rule."

"Sign everything?"

Mr. Howard sighed. "Shred everything, Stinson. Here at AltruCell WOW, we always deal with confidential, classified information. If anybody gets hold of these documents, there will be serious repercussions. Serious. Do you understand?"

"Sorry Mr. Howard, Sir."

"You have to focus, Stinson. No more daydreaming, understand? Yes, I see that look on your face. There is no place for that here at AltruCell WOW. Can't happen again, or you'll be on the chopping block. Speaking of, that should be Claire and Stanley now. You may go." He waved his hand towards the door, gesturing at his secretary and the bumbling middle-aged man standing at the doorway.

Barney was really happy he was not Stanley right now.

"Stinson!" the gruff voice barked at him as he left Mr. Howard's office. Barney exhaled sharply. He could feel his hands form knuckles that turned white. It was Greg. Greg, the monster. Greg, who stole the love of his life and shattered his tender young heart into a million pieces. Barney had to keep his composure around him until the day that he was going to exact his revenge for stealing his girlfriend.

"Listen man. You are still just kid, but kids don't belong at AltruCell. You are swimming with the sharks, and you won't survive if you act like a- a guppy. So, here's the deal: I will show you how to live."

"Show me how to live?"

"Yes, how to live. And, in exchange, I have a very important- very secret- set of documents I need you to sign. No questions asked. Do we have a deal?"

Learning how to live from Greg sounded repugnant to Barney, but he also figured that learning how to blend-in would ensure that he could keep his job at AltruCell long enough to execute his revenge plan.

"Awesome," Barney choked.

"Lesson #1, Stinson: Fake it till you make it. If you say anything often enough, people will believe you."

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Fall 2007

Robin finally washed out the braids she got while in Argentina. With Gael out of the picture, she realized that Barney was right. She really did feel more like herself.

It was just her and Barney at their booth in MacLaren's now, almost time for last call.

"Hey Robin, smell me" he said suddenly.  
"Excuse me?"

"Smell me. I smell incredible."

She leaned forward and inhaled.

Nothing.

There wasn't a bad smell or anything, not like Gael, who she realized, once they broke up, smelled sour. But there wasn't really an incredible smell either. Nothing.

"New cologne?" she offered tentatively. She knew this was not the reaction he was expecting.

"Please." _Really? She can't smell the awesome pouring from me?_

He couldn't show her that he felt hurt by her response. He was surprised. This was not the usual reaction he was used to. Normally, 'I smell incredible' was greeting with 'Yes, yes you do.' Even Ted, Marshall, and Lily indulged him. Robin wasn't going to.

This was unsettling.


	2. Chapter 2

Fall 2000

"Stinson. My coffee. Today. Black, no sugar," Greg barked.

"Yes, Sir."

Barney hit the extra cup setting on the shiny new coffee maker by mistake, and soon the scalding liquid overflowed the brim of the mug.

"Ow. Ow. Ow." Of course it spilled over, staining the collar of the shirt that his mom, Loretta, had freshly pressed for him that very morning. Why hadn't he worn the tie that she laid out for him with the shirt? Now he would have to walk around the office with thick brown coffee stains on a new white shirt, without a tie to mask the mess.

"Today, Stinson," Greg insisted. He made a face at Barney's shirt, but didn't mention it.

"What are you doing this weekend?" he inquired, placing the mug on a coaster. "Training for the Tri-State Laser Tag tournament with James, Sir."

"Really, Stinson? Laser Tag?" "Yes, Sir. The excitement of chasing your nemesis, jumping over hurdles. It's…awesome." Greg made a face that said that he really didn't think that laser tag is awesome. The younger man's brilliant blue eyes shone with such earnestness that Greg decided to change his tactic.

"Look. It doesn't matter how mundane what you're doing actually is." _Wait. Did Greg just call laser tag mundane? What a jerk._

"The secret is to own it. Sell it. From this day forth, every night will be, wait for it, legendary."

"Legendary?" Barney asked, sceptical.

"Yes. Legendary."

"But Sir, isn't it possible to be too liberal with the word 'legendary'? I mean, what if that night is just ok? Or even mundane, like you said?"

"Doesn't matter. If you say it enough times, it's the truth. Fake it till you make it," Greg replied.

"Fake it till you make it," Barney repeated slowly. This was not the first time a mentor gave him this advice. An old magician had told him something similar when he was still a little kid.

"Right. Repeat after me: 'tonight will be legend- waitforit-dary."

"Tonight will be legend-waitforit-dary. Legendary"

"Again."

"Tonight will be legend-waitforit-dary. Legendary."

"Again, Stinson. This time like you really mean it."

With all of the gusto he could muster: "Tonight will be legend-waitforit-dary. Legendary."

Greg gave him a high five.

"Ya, it is. Now, check the top drawer on the left. Should be an emergency tie there. Go deal with that goddam coffee stain before Mr. Howard calls you to his office again. In 3-2-1…

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Fall 2007

"Are you sick? Is your nose stuffed? You really can't tell how incredible I smell?"

Robin smiled at how flustered Barney was getting. Usually she found herself indulging him. They all did: she, Ted, Marshall, and Lily. But for some reason, she found teasing him more fun right now.

The amused smile danced on her lips and she blinked suggestively. He didn't miss the jest in her eyes. She was loving this.

"So, as I was saying, she really believed that I play for the Yankees… and why can't you tell how incredible I smell? Come on, take a whiff. See, here on my neck…"

Robin just sat there and continued to smile coyly.

"That chick who thought that I was a _football player for the Yankees_ would have said yes right away. They always do."

"So most of the bimbos in the city would agree. What's the matter if I don't?" This was a question that he mulled-over as he sat in the cab, heading towards his Fortress, alone tonight. Why did it matter?"

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Fall 2000

Barney entered the conference room, and shut the door gingerly behind him. It was perfect: enough strip of carpet to dart from one end of the room to the other, and a few obstacles-chairs- to maneuver around.

"Pew, pew, pew!" He had his index fingers pressed together, simulating a gun.

"There is no escape, Goodman" he cried out the name of his nemesis, who had won last year's championship over a silly technicality. Barney ducked and dodged, making his way across the large conference room like it was a laser tag arena.

"I got you now!"

Barney had wanted to try this move for a long time. Now, in this enclosed office, simulating the battle between him and his arch nemesis, it seems as good a time as any.

And so, he went for it. The starting leap over a stool was graceful. For a split second, Barney was almost gliding in the air. But, as he went for the tuck and roll, gravity kicked in.

SMASH. Right into the chair in front of him. He didn't know how long he wiped out for.

When he came to, he saw Greg standing at the doorway, sniggering down at him. "You will never be Barney Stinson."

 _Just watch me._


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters named in this chapter. This chapter is inspired by canon events, and glimpses into Barney's childhood and family life on HIMYM. AU liberties are taken with Barney's childhood. References are made to "Insane Duane", Barney's conviction that Bob Barker is his father, and the Magician's Code, which can be credited to Bays and Thomas and the rest of the HIMYM writing team. This chapter is also inspired by Neil Patrick Harris' Choose Your Own Autobiography (2014).

For as long as he could remember, Barney loved magic. Every Friday afternoon when he was a kid, Loretta would give him and James two quarters each as their allowance. James would spend his money right away on candy, maybe save up for a new toy or sports equipment, but not Barney. Instead, Barney would make his way to the magic store.

Soon, magic became a hobby of sorts, an escape from loneliness. Shorter than average, with a frizzy mass of blond hair, and a retainer to fix an overbite by the age of 7, Barney was often picked last for every team. It wasn't just his looks. He soon realized that young boys could be forgiving about that. Take his neighbour, Duane. Growing up, Duane was probably the most physically unattractive child in town, and yet somehow by middle school, he was the most popular guy around, and he became known as 'Insane Duane'. True story.

Sure enough, Barney came to school wearing his brother's hand-me-downs. He carried a Star Wars lunchbox from 1978 that had belonged to his cousin when the movie had just come out. He had nearly absent hand-eye coordination and was terrible at most sports.

None of these things really mattered on their own, but there was one other thing: parents whispered about Loretta Stinson. There were sighs and disapproving clicks of the tongue when mentioning how she was raising two young boys on her own. She could not even hold a job for more than a few months at a time.

When Barney and James were really young, Loretta would put them to bed at 5pm on Friday afternoon, and disappear for hours, often until early Monday morning. Over time, she stopped wandering off like this. It was suspected that the boys' grandmother, Loretta's mother, had put her foot down and gave Loretta a stern lecture about having to check-up on the boys over the weekend. Maybe this talk about taking responsibility as a young single mother had scared Loretta straight, because after that she had put more of an effort to find permanent work and spend time with her sons. It didn't help that at around the same time, she insisted that Jerome Whittaker, who still came to visit regularly, should stay away from her sons permanently.

Alone, afraid, and with the best intentions, Loretta Stinson tried to be the best mother that she could be. Still, gossip followed her wherever she went. Parents cautioned their kids to stay away from Barney too.

The real clincher was Barney's storytelling. He was the little brother, and as he tagged along with James's much cooler older friends, he learned that a good way to get attention was to tell stories. He told tales about the fantastic adventures he would go on on weekends. In reality, Barney spent a lot of time in front of the TV. He would watch taped reruns of The Price is Right.

Then there was the insistence that Bob Barker was his father. At first, the other boys chuckled uncomfortably, as though it was just a joke that had fallen flat. Soon, Barney had become so earnest about it, it was as though he was truly convinced that the man on the screen was his father. When it had become clear to the others that Barney actually had real, long conversations with man on the TV, the whole situation became creepy to them. That incident cemented for them that both Loretta and her son were weirdos. So Barney ended up all alone for hours on end.

Then he discovered magic.

Learning how to perfect the delivery of a magic trick began to consume Barney's free time. He'd spend hours in his bedroom, performing for his Ewok action figures. Soon he became really good at the basics. The owner of the magic store took a liking to Barney. Recognizing his talent, the owner started showing him how to do harder tricks. Barney was an eager student and soaked it all up.

"Look, Barney," the older man told him one summer afternoon when James was off swimming with some neighbourhood boys, and Loretta was baking pasteries at the local café.

"Magic can be a powerful thing. When it's used for good, it can make people happy."

Barney nodded.

"It's ok not to tell truth about a magic trick. It makes the audience so delighted, they don't want to know the secret. Not really. Sure, they may ask. But we follow the Magician's Code of not revealing the secret of the trick. Why? Because the audience doesn't really want to know the secret. Once the secret is out, the illusion is gone. The illusion is what makes them happy. Do you understand?"

Barney nodded again.

"Remember the Magician's Code."

"The Magician's Code. Never to share the secret," Barney echoed.

"Yes, and you want to use magic for good. See, there is a dark side to the power of magic, too."

"There is a dark side?" Barney didn't want to believe it. Something as wholely wonderful and joyful as magic, that makes people happy, surely doesn't have a dark side?

"Yes," the older man nodded.

"See, tricking people without good intention drives them away. It hurts them. It hurts you, too."

"I would never do that," promised Barney. "My magic will always have good intention."

The older man looked at the boy up and down. Barney looked every inch Loretta Stinson. The man wondered if he had just made a big mistake, introducing this naïve, wide-eyed child to the intricacies of magic. A few whoopee cushions and book on tp-ing a building was one thing, but this student had quickly surpassed those gags, and was thirsting for a more complicated story. So the magic store owner gave it to him.

"Tricking people without good intention hurts them," the older man repeated firmly.

"They have fun when there is consent. You have fun when there is consent. Do you know what I mean by consent?"

The little blond boy shook his head.

"Consent means that they give you their full agreement. When they do that, they accept the magic trick. They accept the story. They accept the lies and illusions that make them happy. They accept the Magician's Code, to not know the true secret of the trick. And you will be happy, too, because you brought them the joy of illusion and not knowing."

There was a long silence as the small boy absorbed this speech.

"Do you understand, Barney?"


End file.
